


Together

by SemperAeternumQue



Series: Semicolon Tattoos, And The Meanings Thereof [3]
Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: Don't Try This At Home, Fluff, Foreshadowing, Gen, Swearing, Tattoos, a lot of swearing, he deserves to say fuck, let bronte say fuck, mostly fluff with light angst and mild foreshadowing, the semicolon tattoo headcanon, unsafe tattooing practices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22591870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SemperAeternumQue/pseuds/SemperAeternumQue
Summary: Part of the semicolon tattoo AU by me (Semp), Raven, and Ella. In this one, a young Bronte and Fintan give each other tattoos (unsafely) and swear. A lot.
Relationships: Councillor Bronte & Fintan Pyren
Series: Semicolon Tattoos, And The Meanings Thereof [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618897
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	Together

**Author's Note:**

> Hey folks and welcome to another episode of the semicolon tattoo fic series! Also, another episode of Semp writing obsessively about Bronte and Fintan because they're my bois. 
> 
> Anyways enjoy this stupid short ficlet, no warnings except some cussing. Their relationship was intentionally left ambiguous so you can read this as part of the Pyren Brothers AU canon or not.
> 
> Meaning of a semicolon tattoo, for those who might not know: https://www.grammarly.com/blog/why-a-semicolon-tattoo-is-the-most-beautiful-tattoo/

“Black licorice is delicious.”

“Black licorice is disgusting.”

“Excuse you, I like black licorice.”

“Yeah, but you’re weird."

“So you’ve told me,” Bronte sighed. Some days, he truly did wonder how he could get along with Fintan. “You’re not exactly ‘normal’ yourself," He muttered.

Fintan grumbled something under his breath that sounded uncomplimentary before changing the subject from their licorice debate. “I don’t think I’ve ever asked you, despite all the years we’ve known each other, have you ever thought about getting a tattoo? Since, you know, the rest.” He gestured at Bronte’s piercings.

“You ought to know, really,” Bronte sighed. Sometimes it seemed that half of his conversations with Fintan involved far too much sighing. “But since you don’t…yes, I have thought about it. Why do you ask?”

“No reason…I was maybe thinking of getting one myself.”

Bronte sat up swiftly from where he had been laying on the hillside like Fintan. “You? A tattoo?”

“Don’t act too surprised now, you know I’m just as punk as you.”

Bronte snorted. “Sure. Of what, though?”

“A…” Fintan looked away. “A semicolon.”

Even Bronte knew the significance behind that. He had long considered getting one himself, but always held back. Now, looking at the somewhat younger elf sprawled out across the grass, he wondered if he ought to any longer.

“Funny enough. I’ve long thought about the same.”

“Want to do them together?” Fintan asked.

Bronte had a feeling he would regret this. “Yes, alright. I have some of the serums we need, and a few paintbrushes, shall we go?”

Fintan grinned, somehow leaping to his feet despite having been completely flat on his back not a second earlier. “Absolutely, most dear friend of mine!”

Bronte sighed yet again and clambered to his feet. "Here we go..."

* * *

Approximately twenty minutes later, the duo of elves were sitting in the bathroom of their apartment in Eternalia as Bronte slowly inked the design behind Fintan's left ear.

"Hold still!"

"I can't help it, it tickles," Fintan protested, but he did stop fidgeting.

Bronte painted the last bit on. "There we go."

Fintan turned around, grabbing the paintbrush. "Your turn."

Bronte sighed and rotated around so Fintan could pull back his hair and brush the semicolon on. It itched a little as it sunk in, but soon the feeling was gone.

"How do we fix it in place?" Fintan asked.

Bronte picked up another bottle. "This should do it, from what I've read. Put your head over the sink?"

Fintan did as Bronte asked, pulling aside his long blonde hair. "Watch my hair, you bastard."

Bronte thought for a moment, and dumped the entire bottle over Fintan's head, leaving him sputtering.

"What was that for? Now my hair is all sticky!"

"That was for calling me a bastard, you idiot."

"Well now you have none for yourself, dumbass."

Bronte rolled his eyes and picked up a second bottle. "Surprise, there are two." He passed it to Fintan, who had just finished wiping the serum out of his hair using Bronte's nice towel. Bronte put his head over the sink, only to have the entire second bottle dumped over it, resulting in a fair bit of swearing.

"I felt it was fitting revenge," Fintan laughed as he darted out of reach of Bronte's arms.

"Fair enough, I suppose," Bronte grumbled, drying his head off. Fintan was touching his new tattoo nervously, and Bronte reached a hand out to stop him.

"Whatever happens, we're going to get through it together."

Fintan nodded tentatively. "Promise?"

"I promise. We'll face the world together."

"Together," Fintan agreed.

"Together."


End file.
